


An Angel in the Brothel

by Writer_of_Words88



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: AD 62, Angst with a Happy Ending, Brothels, Complete, Demons, Fluff and Angst, Heavy Petting, Humor, Lupanar, M/M, Pining, Pompeii, Pre-Canon, Romance, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, angel - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-09
Updated: 2019-09-09
Packaged: 2020-10-13 09:41:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20580413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Writer_of_Words88/pseuds/Writer_of_Words88
Summary: Crowley finds himself in Pompeii, miserable and alone. That is until he stumbles upon Aziraphale in the most unlikely of places: a brothel. Not as a customer, but trapped as an angel of the night from a blessing gone wrong, and must earn his freedom.The demon's loyalty is put to the ultimate test as he battles with his darkest desires to free is white-winged Adversary.





	1. The Lupanar

**Author's Note:**

> Good Omens FanFic Timeline:  
Pre-Canon:  
The Pharaoh’s Son – Egypt 14th Century BC  
An Angel in the Brothel – Pompeii 62 AD  
A Long Way from a Miracle – Italy 217 AD  
Christmas Special: The Church of Saint Crowley – Turkey 300 AD  
The Devil’s Favor – England 1066 AD  
War Times – England 1941 AD
> 
> Post-Canon:  
The Bachelor Party – 2019 AD
> 
> Separate GO AU FanFic:  
Halloween Special: Sleepy Hollow (Human AU)  
Ineffable Prompts  
Instagram Prompt

** Lupanar of Pompeii, AD 62 **

A pair of yellow eyes slithered from between the shadows. Dark scales shifted to pale flesh. None had seemed to notice as Crowley stepped onto the dirt lane. Crowds bustled through the street despite the sun that had set hours ago. Various shops lined the way; each shrouded by the veil of night save for the torchlight that glittered from dangling beads and the eyes of eager merchants.

A prospective customer stood nearby with his fingertips stroking his chin as he assessed a wooden booth of various fruits. A few beaded necklaces hung from his neck, giving the impression of wealth. 

Crowley stared with gleaming eyes. Their dark slits narrowed. The demon could sense a stain over the man’s heart. He had thought about stealing some of the finer fruits. The beads he wore were the last of his wealth and would run out within the year. And, thieving some food would make his small earnings last longer.

Crowley glanced away. He didn’t care for petty sins for the time being. His mood had soured over the last few decades. He repressed the urge to flick his tongue in annoyance. It had been years since he had seen Aziraphale. Years of silence and solitude. Well, sort of. He’d had the humans all around and had done his fair share of tempting. But as time passed, a sinking pit chewed away at his insides as though the depths of Hell had taken up a new permanent residence. 

A wine merchant came into view with a table full of bottles. Crowley snatched one from the booth and tossed a coin at the man over his shoulder, without slowing his stride. He ripped off the wax stopper with his teeth and downed a large swig of wine. He had considered stealing the bottle, but a flash of Aziraphale’s sadden expression had curbed his own temptation. 

“Damn it, angel,” he grumbled under his breath. 

His white-winged Adversary wasn’t even there and still could smother his smoky intentions. Crowley huffed out a breath and scanned the starry heavens above. It was possible something had happened to him. But, the angel had appeared intelligent enough to keep out of harm’s way. Not that he’d be gone forever if something had happened; he would just discorporate. Or worse, he could be recalled to another assignment, away from Earth. 

Despite the abundant torchlight, the serpentine demon shivered against the evening air. He needed to get out of the chill. Crowley fixed his stare on a large building at a crossroads ahead. Light poured out from its many windows, cascading out shades of twin-backed beasts that writhed with moaning intensity onto the few meandering drunks below. 

The demon smirked. “Seems like my kind of place.” He sauntered over toward the building, eyeing the few loitering women that hung around the entrance of the house of earthly delights. Though, he supposed they weren’t loitering as much as hunting. Any predator could recognize the penetrating stare of another. They scanned the crowd in search of their prey, or their case, the one with the most coin. 

Crowley rolled his eyes, doubting any of them or all of them for that matter could satisfy his demonic hunger, even for the right price. 

He blinked as a round blond head peeked out from the doorway. 

Crowley stumbled to a halt. 

The face was framed with angelic curls and comforting eyes the color of azure starlight. 

Aziraphale froze as their eyes met. 

It almost seemed a bit too coincidental, but then again, Crowley wasn’t going to question whatever had dropped such an irresistible treat in his lap, which wasn’t like him at all. Questioning things had been exactly what had landed him in a bad place from the beginning.

A coy grin slithered across Crowley’s face, and he resumed his sauntering pace. The angel slunk back further behind the entryway but didn’t break their stare. 

Crowley approached and leaned against the wall. His eyes pulled away from the angel’s wide-eyed gaze and glanced over his attire for the lack of a better word. The normally prim and high-class noble silks that clothed the celestial body before had been exchanged for a loose sheen garment; it revealed much of his chest and much of his enticing thighs. 

Crowley swallowed down the urge to drag his fingertips across that pale skin and returned his gaze to Aziraphale’s seemingly surprised stare. The demon licked his lips. “Funny seeing you in a place like this, angel. More my style than yours, wouldn’t you say?”

The angel blushed but stepped forward. “Thank goodness it’s you, Crowley. I’ve had a simply barbaric day, and I did _not_ intend to end up here. It just kind of happened. And, if you must know, this was not at all how I had planned on seeing you again.”

Crowley shrugged and rolled his neck, then took a swig from the bottle in his hand. “Eh, well, it has been, what, a few decades since we last spoke. I would have guessed you would be up sitting with the higher society, eating some of those tasty foreign fruits or something. But, I guess we all get curious about human customs, eventually. Fancy one of the girls in there?”

Aziraphale flushed and gaped at Crowley. “Absolutely not.”

“Guys, then?” Crowley tried to keep his tone casual; however, his curiosity seemed to try and pour from his mouth with each passing second. He tasted the air and the sin that fluttered around them in rolling waves. It beckoned to the shadow inside him. 

The angel hesitated a fraction, then quipped, “I have no desire for humans in such a fashion, regardless of their gender.”

Crowley couldn’t help himself. “Waiting for a _non_-human then, angel?”

“I d-didn’t say that,” he stammered, then bit his lip. “Actually, it, um, might be a good thing you’re here. I, well, I need a favor.”

The demon turned and rested his back against the wall. He pulled his gaze away, attempting to rein in his desire enough to not scare away the closest thing he had to an acquaintance on Earth. “What? Did you get kicked out? They get mad when you don’t pay for extra services, you know?”

“Like I said, it’s nothing like that, but,” he hesitated again, and Crowley glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. Something had Aziraphale worried for sure, but Crowley couldn’t fathom what could have the angel in such a bind. 

“See, I was, um, assigned here for a blessing, for a specific person, but in doing so I…” The angel paused as though unable to speak the atrocity out loud.

“Oh, come on, angel. Spit it out. I can’t help you if you don’t tell me. It can’t be so bad that you wouldn’t say it,” Crowley hissed, then took another gulp of wine. 

Aziraphale swallowed and straightened his shoulders. “Fine. I…well, when I blessed the young lady, she, um, she left, and they made me take her place. Apparently, she still owed them quite a bit of money after leaving, and the madam of this establishment forced me to inherit her debt since I was the one who talked her out of her, um, lifestyle choice.”

Crowley gaped at him, and he couldn’t help but laugh. Then, his eyes widened as his mind processed the situation. In front of him, wrapped in an almost tantalizing bow, was an angel; an angel of the night and, within the legal limits of the law, who could be purchased for _any_ pleasure his temporary master saw fit. 

His throat dried and he coughed a little before speaking his reply, “So, angel, you’re telling me that you, Aziraphale, a Principality of Heaven, the noble Guardian of the Eastern Gate, are now working…in a brothel?” It had only taken a few thousand years, but the powers of the universe, be it Heaven or Hell, had rewarded him for whatever he’d done and just plopped his darkest desire down in front of him. He crossed his arms to hide their quivering eagerness. 

His mind played with the idea of storming the brothel and tossing a bag spilling with gold coins and confining the angel to a room until the next week. Every lustful act played through his mind like some deepest fantasy that he’d never dreamed would come true. Aziraphale would be bound by human law to comply with his demands. With his desires. Crowley bit his lip and vaguely tasted a trickle of blood beading out from under his fang. 

Aziraphale paled and lowered his eyes again. “I, well, um,” he gulped and peeked up at the demon. “I suppose that is true.”

Crowley breathed out a deep intoxicated breath. He knew what he could do, yet something hissed in the back of his mind. Would the angel hate him afterward? Would he refuse to speak to him if he did take him to one of those sinful rooms even for one night? He breathed out again and forced his head to turn away. “What do you need from me?” His voice came out unsteady, and perhaps a bit breathy from the images still assaulting his mind. He drained the last of the bottle and tossed it on the ground. It rolled away against the side of the building.

“You mean, you mean you’ll help me, Crowley?”

The demon dared a quick glance and melted from the hopefulness in light of those large-round eyes. He could control himself, probably. But it didn’t mean he had to stop teasing him. “Sure, sure. But, can it wait till morning? I’m awfully tired right now. Big day and all, full of temptations and sins and such.” He smirked as Aziraphale’s face grew stricken with panic. “You know how it is with work. And, I don’t want to bore you with the menial details, but I’ll come back tomorrow, probably, and see if I can do anything.” 

He turned to leave, and the angel leaped forward, clutching his arm. “Wait, please! Don’t leave me here like this. I can’t, I mean. I haven’t ever…” 

Oh, the angel was going to send Crowley into pleasurable shivers with just his words if he kept up with his antics. The demon spun, slamming his fist into the wall above Aziraphale’s head. “Then…” He couldn’t help it. The angel had pressed all of the right buttons. His words had released every dark desire hidden away within Crowley’s mind. “How about a deal?”


	2. The Deal

Aziraphale squeaked and stared at him. “A deal?” His eyes seemed to hold a hint of worry in them.

If you only knew, Crowley mused to himself. “Of course. I am a demon, after all. Deals are what I do.” His words hissed out as his control wavered, ready to plummet into the sinful depths.

Aziraphale hesitated and gazed up at him. Uncertainty etched into his curved features. “I don’t think that would be wise, Crowley. I could get into a lot of trouble for that, to say the least.”

The demon leaned in closer. “Don’t worry. I won’t ask for much. Besides, you get to hear the deal before accepting it. I’m not _that_ heartless in a manner of speaking.”

Aziraphale searched his eyes, then nodded once. Tiny beads of sweat gleamed off his skin in the firelight, adding to the intoxicating allure of fantasies in Crowley’s mind. 

He leaned in further and whispered in the angel’s ear, “Give me one night, and I’ll release you.”

Aziraphale yipped and scuttled back. “My dear, have you gone insane? An angel fraternizing with a demon. Why, it’s preposterous. It’s outrageous. It’s—”

“It’s me or them,” Crowley interjected, straightening to lean against the wall again. “You know what those humans will want. Men _and_ women. Looks like you have some potential customers eyeing you already.” He nodded at a pair of women staring at him from across the lane.

Aziraphale paled and spun, then whipped his head back to face Crowley. “Then, help me, please.”

The pleading tone yanked at Crowley’s blackened heart, but he wasn’t ready to stop, yet. He shrugged. “I said I’d help you tomorrow, angel. All you have to do is pick your company for the night.”

“C-Crowley,” he stammered. “This isn’t funny.” His eyes became misty, and the demon knew he had pushed him too far.

He sighed and relaxed his predatory stance. “Come on, angel. You know I like my bit of fun before I give in.” Crowley led them inside with his hand wrapped around the angel’s waist. 

“What are you doing?” 

Aziraphale tried to wiggle free before Crowley whispered in his ear. “Got to make it look realistic, sweetheart.”

Their eyes met, and the demon winked as they neared the madam of the house. Crowley paid for the night, which he knew she had completely scammed him on for a high price, yet if he really did get to do what his demon inside howled for, then no amount would’ve been too much in his opinion.

He also paid for three bottles of wine and two glasses. 

Aziraphale stayed silent for the entire exchange; however, his face had solidified into a stony mask.

They were led to a large room upstairs by a young woman wearing nothing but a few beads around her waist. She set the bottles on a rug at the center of the floor along with the glasses before exiting the room. Crowley gave her a wicked smile, then closed the door. 

The angel backed up against the far wall and watched Crowley as he strolled to the window. He threw back the light curtain to give them a view of the nightlife before meandering back to the middle of the room. The demon sat and opened one of the bottles, pouring wine into the pair of glasses. He was aware that Aziraphale watched him with an unwavering stare, the same way a rabbit watched in anticipation of a coiled snake. “Come and sit.” Crowley beat down his howling temptation by smothering it with wine. 

“Why?”

“Because you don’t usually pass up an opportunity to drink with me. And, I did just buy the best wine in the house, which isn’t saying much, but come on, quit looking at me like I’m going to pounce you at any given second.” He brought the cup to his lips.

“You’re not?” The angel inched forward.

Crowley shook his head. “How long have we known each other? I know you can’t trust a demon, but I mean, I’m not any old demon. You and I, we have and understanding. We get it. Here, the whole Earth thing, countering each other out, it’s how it’s supposed to work, angel.”

“I suppose.” Aziraphale glided down next to him, tucking his legs under him as he sat.

“So, come on. Drink with me tonight. I miss our talks, you know. We haven’t seen each other in a few decades. I’m sure there’s loads to catch up on.”

“Yes, I suppose you’re right.” Aziraphale smiled and relaxed for the first time that night. He picked up the other glass and sipped its contents. 

“Not bad, eh? Better than some I guess,” Crowley said before eyeing the dark liquid. 

“So,” the angel drummed his fingers on the cup in his hands. “We aren’t going to, well, to, you know?”

Crowley gave him a devilish smile from the corner of his eye. “Not unless you want to, angel. I can promise that you won’t regret it.”

“But, I’m fairly certain that it,” Aziraphale lowered his eyes. “It would make me Fall.” The last word quivered from his mouth and sobered Crowley in an instant.

The image of blackened wings with his screams of pain filled his mind. Crowley turned his back to him as shame washed over him. He stared into the cup again. “Yeah, I suppose that’s true.” The words escaped him from a bare whisper. If he were the reason Aziraphale Fell? The thought festered inside him. He had never wanted forgiveness before, but something like that. To be responsible for the Falling of his angel. _His _angel? He shivered and swirled the liquid in the cup. “Sorry,” he offered. “I must have really worried you, then.”

A hand gripped his shoulder, and he turned meeting Aziraphale’s comforting gaze. “For what it’s worth, Crowley, you’re right. I can’t go around trusting demons.”

His heart sank. But at least the angel was smart enough to realize the truth.

“But you aren’t like other demons.”

Crowley let a smile slip over his mouth, and slowly, he reached up, placing a hand over Aziraphale’s comforting grip. “So,” he cleared his throat. “Is there a reason why you’re not miracling your way out of this mess? You know, snap your fingers and make it all better?”

Aziraphale sighed and released his hand to Crowley’s dismay. He gulped down the wine, frustration replacing any soft comfort on his face. “Ah, well. It was Gabriel. He said I messed up the mission and that I had to escape by human terms as my punishment.”

“But, you did what they asked. I mean the girl made off okay, leaving her sinful ways and all. Everything turned out alright, in my opinion.”

“True, but it left a bit of a mortal mess, I’m afraid. Sloppy work as Gabriel put it.” He finished off the cup, then set it back on the rug. 

Crowley snatched the bottle and poured more for the angel, then for himself. It seemed like it would be a long night after all. He flashed Aziraphale a smile. “I guess it’s lucky your Adversary happen to be meandering the streets of Pompeii on this most unfortunate of nights.”

“Yes, it’s almost…”

Crowley glanced at him before taking another drink. “Almost what?”

“Ineffable.”

Crowley rolled his eyes but continued to smile. “No. I think it’s you who’s inf-able at the moment.”

Aziraphale flushed. “You know me well enough.”

He sighed. “Not what I meant, angel.” He gulped down more wine and risked a glance at Aziraphale.

The angel’s face had turned an utterly desirable shade of crimson. 

Crowley’s devilish grin returned to his lips. “Red looks good on you.”

“Oh, come now, Crowley. Stop that. Besides, red has always been your color.”

“Which is why it’s best _on_ you, angel,” he teased as his eyes fluttered across Aziraphale’s skin that glowed from the lamplight. 


	3. A Four-Letter Word

Aziraphale flicked his gaze back down to his cup and straightened his back. “If you’re going to act that way while you are drunk, then I will not talk to you for the rest of the evening.”

“Oh, come on. You know I didn’t mean it.”

However, the look he gave the demon seemed to say that he knew exactly what he’d meant. Crowley smiled, then laid back against the rug. His gaze slid across the ceiling as he contemplated how much trouble he would be in before the night had ended. At least he could spend it with Aziraphale. Whatever seething unrest that had burrowed in his chest from earlier seemed to have vanished from the angelic company beside him.

The door slid open, and Crowley rose up on his arms.

The young woman from earlier peered into the room and narrowed her eyes. Her words came out in short quips, “If he’s not doing his job, tell me, and I’ll have him whipped. He’s here to work despite what he thinks.”

Crowley tensed but gave her a relaxed smile. “Not to worry. He’s fine. Don’t worry about us.”

She flicked her gaze to Aziraphale. “If you have even one complaint on you, the madam said she’ll double your debt. This man’s paid well for you, so earn your keep.” She stepped into the room, and Aziraphale lunged forward. 

Many things happened at once before Crowley had a chance to process them all. His body tightened as Aziraphale scurried over and sat on Crowley’s lap, resting his hips against him. The woman paused as he did so. 

Aziraphale forced a weak smile at her. “No need to worry, like he said. I’m working, really. Really well. No need to raise my debt, or, um, call for any whippings. See.” He leaned forward and planted his mouth on Crowley’s lips.

The demon’s body reacted immediately. Pleasure rippled down Crowley’s back, and he leaned forward into the kiss. One hand reached up, snaking up the angel’s back into his soft curls. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he registered the door closing after the woman left, but that was far from his current thoughts. 

Agony released deep from somewhere inside his hollow heart. Crowley rocked his hips, bringing a small gasp from the angel and sending his senses into overdrive. He rolled their bodies over. And pinned Aziraphale against the rug.

He released the kiss, inhaling the angel’s voluptuous scent. His ravenous stare washed over the wide-eyed angel. Every curve. Every gleaming bead of sweat drove him insane. Crowley pressed himself against Aziraphale and returned his mouth to the deliciously soft lips of the angel. 

Aziraphale pried his mouth away. “Crowley,” he gasped. 

It drove the demon wild. He found the angel’s mouth once more, and his tongue parted Aziraphale’s lips. Yet, deep in the back of his mind, he registered that the angel’s voice had been urgent, almost pleading with him. He loosened his grip but didn’t stop. His demonic nature roared for more, more pleasure, more of the beautiful body before him. 

But, his mind buzzed with uneasiness. He had dreamed of that exact moment. Crowley yearned to be with him. Yearned to hear him say his name in the breathless way of a lover. 

A lover? The word seemed odd to him, but that didn’t make it any less true. Again, his mind registered the angel resisting, pressing against him. An image flashed through his mind of those pristine, stunning white wings dissolving into blackened ash.

Crowley shuttered and yanked his mouth away. He opened his eyes, realizing the angel had started berating him. He gasped and rested his head against Aziraphale’s shoulder. 

“Go,” he breathed. He clamped his body still as though it had been shackled to the floor.

Aziraphale ceased his shouts and stilled beneath him. “Crowley. Crowley, can you hear me?” 

The demon swallowed hard and twitched his head in a nod. A deep ache radiated from his belly, screaming for more. He breathed out again, remembering the first time the angel had smiled at him. He had done it that first day, the very first day. Crowley hadn’t expected that, that what? 

Kindness. 

Aziraphale had shown him kindness, compassion even. Crowley wouldn’t betray him. However, he might have already, but he couldn’t, he wouldn’t do more. He had come to realize over the many millennia that it wasn’t his body he truly desired. 

His angel, he had thought before. He wanted Aziraphale. All of him. That included his heart—“Go, Aziraphale. I need. I need to get control again,” he hissed. His muscles ached against the strain. Every instinct in his body fought against him. But for the angel. For his angel, he would battle the Devil himself. He leaned up, giving Aziraphale more room to escape.

The angel wiggled out from beneath him, and the demon cried out. The ugly side of him seemed convinced that his prey was escaping. 

Aziraphale rose to his feet with his hands quivering. 

Crowley let his head fall to the ground. He had broken their trust. Every bit of the bond between them had shattered, and it was all of his damn fault. “Fuck,” he growled, banging his head on the rug once. Crowley had to rein in his stupid demon instincts. It hadn’t been that bad since even before coming to Earth. He bit his lip, this time with the intent of tasting blood. He groaned, letting the pain sooth away his demonic impulses.

He let out a ragged breath and dared a glance at Aziraphale. If the angel was going to curse him or smite him more likely, then he wanted to face him one last time. He wanted to see his enchanting features once more before the unfortunate, but understandable righteous fury. 

He met Aziraphale’s eyes, and the angel gasped. “Crowley, your lip. You’re bleeding everywhere.”

The demon licked his lip once tasting a large amount of blood dribbling down his chin. He must have punctured the skin deeper than he’d realized.

“Crowley, I’m so sorry, my dear.”

The demon blinked at him, but still unmoving. “What? What are you–” was all he could manage. He groaned at the mounting pressure between his thighs. 

“I-I didn’t, I didn’t realize,” the angel stammered. “And I should have known. I should have realized how careless,” his words trailed off as sparkling tears rimmed his eyes.

“Damn it all,” Crowley groaned resting his head on the ground. His hips twitched, eager to relieve the pressure. 

He sensed Aziraphale step forward.

“No,” he snarled, then raised his head to meet his eyes again.

Whatever had remained of his heart broke from the hurt in Aziraphale’s stare. Crowley swallowed and forced back the temptation. “It’s not…you’re not.” He couldn’t think. He couldn’t breathe. He had to clear his mind.

“I’m sorry,” Aziraphale repeated. 

His words pierced him harder than anything they’d had down in Hell. He tried to laugh at the oddity of it but grunted in discomfort. He had to focus. “It’s not you, angel,” he grimaced. “Not your fault. I just need…a minute. I’m the one to blame.” Crowley rolled to his back, gasping, then rose to a sitting position, propping his hands behind him. He rolled his neck, and his tongue tasted the air. The room had saturated from the sins surrounding them. Every room echoed with moans of lust and pleasure. It was a demon’s paradise. No wonder he was having such a difficult time. 

“Crowley?” Aziraphale sounded closer. 

He needed to relieve himself and get his mind back again. “I’ll be okay,” he grunted. “Just give me,” the demon panted as he slipped his hand beneath his robes. “Just need a moment.” He exhaled and focused on getting it over with.

A hand brushed his shoulder, then the angel pressed against his back and hands encircled the demon’s chest. Aziraphale buried his face in Crowley’s back. “I’m glad…I’m glad you aren’t mad, dear. I didn’t want you to hate me. Silly, isn’t it? Not wanting to be hated by a demon.”

Crowley shuttered as heat radiated from the angel’s gentle touch. His cool skin prickled underneath Aziraphale’s warmth. His pace quickened. “I can’t…I can’t ever…hate you, angel.” He gasped and gritted his teeth. A part of him was more than embarrassed at how quick his efforts would take, but that really was the least of his worries. “I thought…thought you’d leave…leave me.” He panted and leaned against the angel. 

Aziraphale shifted and pressed his face against Crowley’s neck. 

The demon groaned as the euphoric scent from the blond curls washed over him. It reminded him of walking along the beach at daybreak, or of the sweetness of a perfectly ripened apple from an orchard. He tilted his head, inhaling Aziraphale’s tempting fragrance. He groaned more audible than before. 

“Az…Azira,” he whispered as his hand quickened its pace. So close. The angel seemed to nuzzle his neck, and for a moment, Crowley could’ve sworn lips brushed against his skin. 

“Aziraphale,” he moaned as his body grew rigid, releasing him from his yearning desire. Crowley quivered as he relaxed backward. His strength had sapped from him. 

When his eyes fluttered open, he found Aziraphale gazing down at him. Crowley licked his lips, tasting blood again. He invoked his power, healing his lip and dissolving away his mess. He glanced away from the angelic blue stare. “I’m sorry. I…I broke any trust we had between us.” He let out a slow breath. “I thought for sure you were going to smite me and,” he swallowed down a lump. “I wouldn’t have blamed you for it. Not a bit.”

The angel slid one hand under Crowley’s neck then pulled him up and propped his head on his lap. The demon closed his eyes and nuzzled his cheek against the warm skin. 

Fingers brushed through his matted strands. “I could never hate you either, my dear. Much less smite you.” He gave a small giggle, and Crowley relaxed. 

He met the angel’s eyes again and wondered if he dared ask the question that weighed on his mind, but he subsided and closed his eyes once again. 

Aziraphale continued to run his fingertips through his hair well into the night. Crowley had awoken the next morning, not realizing he had fallen asleep. They didn’t say much, but every time their eyes met, one of them would glance away. It’d probably be years before they could look at each other again without heat rising in their cheeks. But, Crowley reasoned, it was better than him being hated and much better than him being subjugated to an angel’s righteous judgment. 

He paid off Aziraphale’s debt in full, then led him to a clothier he’d talked with before. Crowley didn’t even mind as the angel spoke to her about healing her ways and undoing all of the work he’d done a few days earlier. 

He stared at Aziraphale, and his expression returned to a neutral gaze. Crowley didn’t know of any demons that could care, or even cherish a human, much less an angel. He gritted his teeth and turned away, leaving Aziraphale with his coin pouch in the shop. Because Crowley finally understood the truth. 

He knew what would be worth him burning for eternity. He knew why it didn’t bother him too much that he’d Fallen. The truth wasn’t ‘care’, ‘consideration’, or something so commonplace. It was a simple word. A powerful word. 

A word he wasn’t sure a demon, such as himself, could say, even if he’d wanted to more than anything.


End file.
